A Very London Christmas

This Christmas, I have my very own Scrooge to contend with: the gorgeous, grumpy single dad of the adorable little girl I’m nannying for.

The luxury hotel he owns may feel like a sumptuous Christmas movie set, but the door to Miles Montague’s penthouse is where that festive cheer ENDS.

To be fair, he has his reasons. His ex-wife walked out a couple of years ago, and Miles is at breaking point. In fact, the only person he ever smiles at is his little girl, Bea. When he looks at her, he’s a different man.

This is more than a nannying job: I’m Bea’s appointed holly jolly companion for December and I’m to ensure she delights in every Christmas treat this beautiful city has to offer.

Basically, I’m to be everything her poor, broken father can’t be for her.

The plan includes ice skating, visiting Santa at Harrods and drinking a 𝑙𝑜𝑡 of hot chocolate.

The plan does 𝑛𝑜𝑡 include Miles peeling off my shirt (and his own) when Bea vomits all over us, or me accidentally telling him to ‘make better use of me' over champagne.

This guy has walls higher than Fort Knox. I get that. What I 𝑑𝑜𝑛’𝑡 get is why he’s the one to start knocking them down when he takes me out for champagne, or insists I accompany him and Bea to a magical Christmas party, or orchestrates the most fabulous designer glow-up for me when I’m worried I’ll be too shabby for the party.

Because when he does things like that, it feels like I’m more than just the simple Irish nanny.

It feels like we’re a family.

𝐴 𝑉𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝐿𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛 𝐶ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑔𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑦 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑦, 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑑, 𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑦 / 𝑏𝑜𝑠𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑐𝑜𝑚 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎𝑛 𝑀𝑀𝐶 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑤𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝐶𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑉𝑜𝑛 𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑝, 𝑚𝑎𝑗𝑜𝑟 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝐴𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑣𝑖𝑏𝑒𝑠, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝐻𝐸𝐴 𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑔 𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑡 𝑏𝑜𝑤.